


My Lady of Tarth

by BananaChef



Series: Short and Sweet [7]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M, Ficlet, How Do I Tag, Married Couple, Possessive Sex, and then things got out of hand, blame Leslie, i managed to have Jaime actually top Brienne for once, look at that, she started talking about Jaime's now-apparent possessive streak, what does that say about me tho akjsdhks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:53:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26160682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BananaChef/pseuds/BananaChef
Summary: There would be no more whispers of marriage proposals and annulment—not so long as Jaime was there to disprove them and challenge all those who would try to steal his wife, his wench, his lady of Tarth.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: Short and Sweet [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1899604
Comments: 6
Kudos: 83





	My Lady of Tarth

“My lady of Tarth,” Jaime growled into her ear as he thrust into her again, causing Brienne to whimper and press her head into the pillow, arching her chest up while her eyes remained closed.

 _“Mine,”_ he insisted before taking the peak of a breast in his mouth and suckling on it.

“Jaime!” Brienne gasped, and he knew her blue eyes were open wide; they had discovered early on that her breasts, while small, were very sensitive—and Jaime never missed a chance to use that knowledge.

He allowed himself a feral grin, scraping his teeth on her nipple and delighting in the way she shivered and gripped his mane of golden hair.

Brienne squirmed against him, imploring him to move again, and he reached for her leg with his right arm, pulling out as he brought it up to his waist. Jaime thrust in again, groaning deeply into her skin.

“Mine. _My_ wench,” he growled, pushing himself onto his forearms as she gripped him tightly, both with her legs and cunt.

He gazed into her deep blue eyes, driving into her with a singular force and intensity that made Brienne scream his name, likely loud enough for everyone in the castle to have heard. Every servant, guard, and guest they had over.

“Yours,” she murmured, eyes bright in the way they always were post-orgasm. “Your wife.”

Jaime thrust into her again, and a few times more before finding his release with a roar. When he finished, he allowed himself to collapse into Brienne’s waiting embrace.

“No one will believe our marriage unconsummated now, eh, wench?” He maneuvered his head so he could see the rampant flush that went from her cheeks to her breasts as he smirked. “Certainly not by tomorrow. I dare say you’ll have to stay in bed all day to recuperate.”

She would have blushed further if she was able, Jaime knew. He rolled off her strong body (the body that made him lust so often, even before he knew that he was) and wrapped his maimed arm around her waist.

“Sometimes I wonder why I married you, husband,” Brienne murmured, a small smile of her own playing on her lips.

“Oh, is that how this is? Well, in that case...” Jaime pulled up the blanket the two had shoved to the foot of the bed. “Sleep, wench, and I’ll wake you up in the best way possible. Mayhaps that will remind you why.” He kissed her before she could make a witty retort and settled down next to her.

There would be no more whispers of marriage proposals and annulment—not so long as Jaime was there to disprove them and challenge all those who would try to steal his wife, his wench, his lady of Tarth.


End file.
